


Erlebnisse

by Ariejul



Series: Alone in the Fallout [7]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Adult Content, Awkwardness, Deacon is a mess, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Heartbreak, How do relationships work?, How do we get back to where we were?, Hurt/Comfort, Let's talk, Loss, Sacrifice, Sole Survivor is a mess, Suffering, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unrequited? love, at least physically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 04:48:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11177373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariejul/pseuds/Ariejul
Summary: Erlebnisse: the experiences, positive or negative, that we feel most deeply, and through which we truly live; not mere experiences, but Experiences.Nick joins Julia's search for Deacon. She isn't sure what to do when she reaches its end.Post-game.Takes place after La Douleur Exquise.





	Erlebnisse

About a week later, Nick shows up in John’s office. “Hey, Hancock.” He gives her a smile that Julia can’t manage to return. “Kid. Heard you needed me to find someone.”

She glances at John and nods. “I… Deacon’s left, and I need to find him.”

The old Synth looks startled. “Deacon? Well, this looks like it’s about to get interesting.”

John laughs, gesturing for them to take a seat. “Why don’t we all sit down. I figure this will take a while.”

John and Julia sit on one couch, while Nick sits across from them. She fidgets with her hair, suddenly questioning her desperation. Deacon left for a reason. Maybe she shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe… maybe him being gone is really for the best. It’s pretty obvious how he feels.

“Alright,” Nick says, taking out a notepad and pencil. “I’m gonna need you to tell me everything you know.”

Julia dismisses her thoughts and nods, knowing the drill. She had to do this before while searching for Shaun, after all. God, she hadn’t even met Deacon then. Just Nick, Dogmeat, and herself against the world. Well, and maybe Piper, though the reporter always unsettled her.

She takes a deep breath and relays everything that happened. How he left under false pretenses of a Railroad mission. How he used the Railroad’s dead drop to lead her to the holotape. How he told her to move on. She leaves out the bit about Bobby. John would tease them both mercilessly.

Nick frowns in thought, and John murmurs, “Damn.”

After scribbling down a few things, Nick leans forward. “You didn’t talk about before he left. Did anything out of the ordinary happen? Did he say anything to make you think he wouldn’t come back, or that something was wrong? I know that Deacon isn’t the easiest person to read, but I think you know him better than anyone.”

Julia frowns, staring down at her hands. “I really don’t know, Nick. I mean… the night before he invited me over to drink at his place. Near as I can remember, nothing strange happened. We just… talked.”

Both men watch her. John, seeming to make up his mind, stands and stretches. “While this is thrilling and all, I think I need to stretch my legs a little.” He drops a hand on Julia’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll leave this to you, Nick.”

Without any more preamble, he leaves and closes the double doors behind him.

Nick follows his exit before turning back to her. “Kid, I understand that this is hard, but I need you to tell me everything. No matter how minor you think it is, it could be the lynch pin. Can we go over it again? You were at Deacon’s place drinking. What happened?”

“Nick, I…” she worries her bottom lip, gnawing away a bit of dry skin there. She can’t bring herself to say anymore. The words just won’t come.

He leans forward, catching her gaze with his. He looks concerned and that burns. “Julia, I’m just trying to help. Nothing you say will leave this room. Scout’s honor.”

Moisture wells in her eyes listening to Nick’s gruff voice heavy with worry. How she still has tears left inside, she’ll never know. It feels like as she does is cry. Taking a deep breath, she manages to speak. “Okay. I was… drunk. You know I’m a lightweight. Everyone does.” She laughs, but it comes out sounding like a sob. “I, uh, I stole Deacon’s sunglasses, and from what I remember, he left them off. We talked about my nightmares.”

Nick nods, scribbling a bit more in his notebook. “So, you pushed him out of his comfort zone, but he allowed it. Then, you talked about something deeply personal. What happened next?”

Julia runs a hand through her hair. “The next thing I remember is waking up in a bed that wasn’t mine. I was wearing different clothes, and I didn’t remember much from the night before. Deacon told me later that I’d spilled a beer on myself and passed out.” Her cheeks turn pink, and she’s unable to meet Nick’s eyes. “He changed my clothes and put me in his bed. Um, after, he walked me home and told me he was leaving.”

“I see,” Nick says. “Did you find anything about his behavior odd?”

She nods. “Yeah. He just seemed off. I really don’t know exactly how to put it. Subdued, maybe? When he left, I had this feeling that I’d never see him again, but I chalked it up to paranoia. It’s not like I could make him to stay regardless.”

He makes a humming sound and leans back in his seat. “Sounds like something might have happened that you don’t remember. Something that has him running scared. Deacon doesn’t strike me as the type to just drop everything and leave without a reason.”

She nods in agreement. “Deacon would never leave the Railroad. It gives his life meaning.” She tries not to feel too bitter about that fact.

“So, what reason could he have for running from something that important?” Nick rubs his chin in thought. “Before that night, was everything normal?”

Julia nods. Rubbing her eyes with the butt of her palms, she tries to banish away her sorrow.

“Alright, now. Where did you find the holotape?”

Cringing, she still manages to talk. “University Point. It was buried under a hiding place Deacon likes to use.”

“University Point?” Nick frowns in confusion. “Why there?”

Julia hesitates. She trusts Nick, but Deacon’s story isn’t hers to tell. “It was somewhere important to him. He told me about it.”

Nick nods. “Are there any other places he told you that are important to him?”

She thinks, but no. The only place he ever mentioned was University Point. Everywhere else associated with Deacon is either because of the Railroad or his time with her. “Nick, I’m sorry, but there really isn’t anywhere else.”

The old Synth contemplates for a minute, then sighs. “Well, since there isn’t much else to go on, do you have something of his? We can use Dogmeat to track him like we did for Kellogg.”

“Nick,” she starts, thinking about having to go back to Sanctuary and face Shaun. She can’t do that. Not now. “I can’t go back to Sanctuary right now. I promised Shaun I would come back with Deacon. I can’t break it.”

“I understand.” Nick stands up. “How about we head that way, but you wait for me at Red Rocket? I’ll talk to Preston, get what I need and meet up with you there. How’s that sound?”

Julia looks up at him, startled. “Yeah. That… that sounds great.”

The Synth Detective eyes her. "Actually, why don't you wait here? I can go get Dogmeat, then we can head to University Point and start there."

Her gaze snaps up. "Why? I can do this, Nick. Don't leave me behind!"

"I'm not leaving you behind, kid. You just need rest. You're starting to look like something a Deathclaw chewed up and spit out." He lights a cigarette and takes a drag. "Wait here in Goodneighbor for me. I won't be long. Rest up for the trip." His tone brooks no argument.

"Okay. Just... hurry back. I don't like waiting."

He nods. "Believe me, I know."

 

Nick leaves for Sanctuary the next day. Julia can't keep the bitterness from curling in her chest as she watches him go. She should be with him. She hates being left behind, and that seems to be all that ever happens anymore. John, standing by her side, gives her a once over.

"Looks like you've been eating sour grapes, sister," he says with a chuckle. "C'mon, don't worry. Ole Nicky Valentine will be back in a flash." He wraps an arm around her shoulders and directs her back into the town proper. "While you wait, there's plenty of other things to do in a town like this."

Julia allows herself to be led, an idea suddenly popping up in her head. She isn't sure why she didn't think of it before. "You're right," she grins at John, slipping away. "I know just the place."

John laughs to himself as he watches her jog down the alley.

Irma is all smiles when she sees Julia. "Hello, sweetheart. Haven't seen you here in a while."

She waves at the woman. "Yeah, been busy."

She laughs, eyes twinkling. "Celebrating, I'm sure. It isn't everyday you take down a place like the Institute."

"I was wondering if I could use a memory lounger?" she asks, getting to the point. She likes Irma, but they could be here for hours if she doesn't ask.

The woman in red looks surprised, but it fades quickly enough. "Of course, honey. Anything for you."

Dr. Amari appears a moment later, eyes widening in wonder. "Oh, hello. It's good to see you."

"Dr. Amari. Always a pleasure."

Irma stands, slinking over to Amari. "She wants to use a lounger. Could you set her up?"

Dr. Amari looks a bit wary but nods all the same. "You remember the basics of the lounger, don't you?" At Julia's nod, she continues. "Well, unlike the process we used with Mr. Valentine, you need to focus on a memory. It needs to be something powerful. Was there something you had in mind?"

Julia hesitates. She knows exactly what she wants to see but isn't sure she wants to talk about it. "Dr. Amari, I have a question first. Say, if I had forgotten details of a certain memory, could I reclaim them in the lounger?"

The doctor looks startled for a moment. "Yes, I think so. I can't guarantee it, of course, but it should be possible."

She nods. "Okay. I want to see a memory I shared with my partner."

Amari frowns, brows furrowing. "Partner? Oh! You mean..." 

"Yes, that's what I mean." 

Amari nods, gesturing toward the nearest pod. "Go ahead and get inside. I'll guide you as best I can, but you need to focus on the memory you want. It doesn't always work, but it does help."

Julia climbs into the pod and takes a deep breath. These things remind her a little too much of the cryo chamber for comfort. "Okay, doc. Whenever you're ready."

"Alright, starting now," Amari says, and suddenly Julia is far away.

She's watching herself now, sitting on the old couch in Deacon's house. This is where she wanted to be. 

 _"Cheers,"_ she hears herself say.

Her bottle of beer shatters, the contents falling all over her, the couch, and Deacon. She didn't actually remember that.  _"Shit."_  Her past self winces, a large cut on her palm from the glass. She panics, standing up so fast she wobbles on her feet. Deacon catches her.

 _"Hey, calm down. You're gonna hit your head acting like that."_ He walks her over to the counter behind them where he cleans and bandages her hand.

 _"Deacon, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm just clumsy, and I got you soaked. Oh, and the couch. I'm sorry."_ God, she forgot how much she babbled when she was drunk. It's honestly embarrassing.

Deacon smiles and leads her down the hall. Even now, Julia's heart skips a beat at that expression. _"Let's get outta these clothes."_  

She follows the pair down the hallway and into Deacon's room. Her past self glances around nervously. Deacon stops what he's doing to watch her with a mischievous grin.  _"Hey, what's the matter? Never been in a man's bedroom before?"_

Her past self frowns, hands on her hips. It would have looked more formidable if she hadn't been drunkenly swaying on her feet.  _"I was married, mister."_

 _"So was I,"_ he laughs, those sad blue eyes watching her in such a peculiar way. It reminds Julia of the way Nate used to look at her, and that makes something in her chest tighten to the point of pain. She obviously didn't notice at the time.

 _"Well, good. We both know what happens in a bedroom between folk, then."_ Her past self sits down gingerly on the bed as her swaying worsens. She starts clumsily unlacing her boots, nearly tipping right off the bed.

Deacon, now shirtless, walks over, a look of good-natured suffering on his face as he pushes her back up onto the bed. _"Jeez, Charmer. You're gonna knock yourself out acting like that."_ He starts taking off her shoes for her.

Julia feels heat rising to her face, mirroring her past self's look. _"You gonna undress me now?"_   Oh, sweet mother of Jesus, did she actually say that?

It clearly catches her partner off guard as his gaze snaps up to her face, and is he actually blushing? He seems to pull himself together quickly enough as he leans up toward her face.  _"Only if you want me to,"_ he purrs.

She's got to hand it to herself, she doesn't miss a beat in replying back.  _"I do."_

He's leaning over her, and God, his eyes are still so unbearably sad.  _"Is that all you want me to do?"_

Her past self silently shakes her head, tentatively reaching out and running a shaking hand through his hair. 

Deacon pulls back a little then, his expression conflicted. His eyes wander down her frame before meeting her gaze again. _"Tell me what you want, Charmer."_

 _"Call me Jules,"_ she murmurs. Something inside her chest fractures a little, hearing that from her own mouth.

 _"Tell me what you want, Jules,"_ he repeats, nearly straddling her on the bed.

Her past self stares up at him, and Julia feels her heart starting to race.  _"You know what I want, Deacon. You should ask yourself what is it that_  you  _want."_

A beat later, Deacon's pushed her back on the bed and is kissing her, and Julia feels the rush of what he felt like all at once. It's hungry and needy and overwhelming, and she certainly wouldn't mind doing that again. 

Once he pulls back, her past self looks up at him dumbly.  _"Deacon, I..."_

 _"Don't say anything,"_  he murmurs like a prayer, his eyes somehow even more melancholy than before. It hurts to see, and she wishes she hadn't forgotten this. It must have hurt him so much when she didn't remember. He kisses her again, and clothes go flying in a whirlwind of skin and touch and sensation that leaves Julia reeling long after she's left the Memory Den.

 

John finds her sitting at the bar in the Third Rail. She's still nursing the first drink she ordered who knows how long ago. Though, from the angry glances White Chapel Charlie is throwing her way, probably quite some time.

"Hey, sister," he greets, sitting down beside her. He waves down Charlie and orders a beer. "Haven't seen you in a while. Where you been hiding?"

Swirling the brown liquid slowly in her glass, she manages to glance up at John. "Went to the Memory Den."

Shock sweeps across his face. "I see. Did you.. ah, have a good time?"

The look on Deacon's face when he kissed her plays in her mind's eye, taunting her. "Something like that." She downs the rest of her drink and decides she likes the way it makes her head swim.

"C'mon, we'll head back to my place," he says, dropping enough caps to cover both their drinks on the bar top before ushering her out. 

"What are you doing, John?" she asks once they're outside. 

"Didn't want you to get in over your head," he replies, hand still on her back as they walk along. "This town can chew you up and spit you out if you aren't careful."

She frowns, giving him a sour look. "I'm plenty careful."

He laughs, and it does nothing more than irritate her. "If you say so."

She doesn't say anything else; she knows John is just trying to help. He's worried, and she can't really blame him. Julia lets him guide her into his office and onto the sofa. She takes the bottle of purified water he hands her and dutifully drinks it. She already feels bad just from the little she drank.

John takes a seat on the opposite sofa and pops a few Mentats. He doesn't ask her to explain, doesn't ask her for anything. He just smiles when she looks over at him and offers a Mentat. She doesn't take it. "Sister, I'm really starting to worry about you. You haven't looked this lost since the first time I met you."

She laughs, finishing off the water he gave her and setting the empty can aside. "Can't say I've felt this lost in a long time. I really... don't know what to do, John."

He sighs, leaning forward. "That's easy. You go out and bring his sorry ass back and give him the tongue lashing he deserves. Simple as that."

Julia nods, but she doesn't think it's going to be so simple. Nothing involving Deacon ever is.

 

Nick shows up a few days later with Dogmeat at his side. Dogmeat runs over to her, barking happily. She scrubs his head, dropping to her knees and hugging him. "Hey, boy! I missed you."

The old Synth laughs, greeting her with a wave. "Hey, kid. You ready?”

Julia stands, glancing at John and Goodneighbor over her shoulder. "Yeah, let's go."

 

The trio heads to their first destination, University Point. They meet a few groups of raiders along the way, but it's nothing they can't handle. Julia wishes desperately to listen to Deacon's tape again, but she doesn't want Nick to hear. It's just too personal, too private. She thinks about their last night together. The way Deacon's hands felt against her skin, the look on his face, the way he made her feel. How could she have forgotten something like that? A wave of self-loathing rushes over her, and she shivers. Hopefully, Deacon can forgive her.

When they arrive, Dogmeat wanders around the abandoned settlement, sniffing seemingly in circles. He stops at the metal box still sitting where Julia left it, and letting out a bark, charges off northward. They weave through the ruins of Boston, skirting around the Commons – how could she forget walking the Freedom Trail? – and hanging a left at the Mass Fusion Building.

The large raider gang that made its home on the other side of the bridge is gone, utterly destroyed. Julia can’t hide her surprise. She’s always avoided this bridge solely because of that group. Did Deacon take them out, she wonders. How could one man do something like this? Even if that man is Deacon? Dogmeat snakes back northward. The next stop is Ticon.

The building is long abandoned. Even with the Institute gone, no one in the Railroad felt comfortable setting up here again after the massacre. Julia doesn’t blame them. It was a bloodbath she wishes desperately to forget. The way Deacon looked when he saw what happened still haunts her. Dogmeat stops in the lobby by the elevator, barking as he fidgets anxiously.

Nick glances around. “What is this place? Looks deserted.”

Julia pressed the button to call the elevator. They weren’t acquainted long, but she still liked High Rise. He cared and was kind, and she can almost hear him calling out to her in greeting. “It was a Railroad safehouse before Coursers found it.” She glances back at Nick. “Everyone was killed before Deacon and I got here. They were avenged, for what little the dead care.”

“Damn,” Nick murmurs as they all walk on the elevator. The climb up is quiet, only the whirling of the elevator filling the silence. When the doors open, Dogmeat wanders over to the couch and sniffs, finding a pile of bloodstained bandages and the remains of stimpaks.

Julia’s heart drops at the sight, but she presses on. “Still got the scent, boy?”

Dogmeat barks, tongue lolling out of his mouth. His tail wags happily.

“Julia,” Nick says. “Don’t you think we should take a rest? We’ve been on the road all day.”

“No,” she snaps, heading back toward the elevator with Dogmeat. “He has nearly five months on us. He could be anywhere by now. I’m not wasting another moment! You can come, or you can stay, but don’t get in my way.”

Nick takes a step back, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m not trying to stop you. I’m just worried. I don’t need sleep, but you do. You certainly haven’t been getting much, and from what Hancock told me, you didn't get a lot while I was gone either.”

Taking a deep breath, Julia reigns herself in. Nick is only concerned. She knows that, just as she knows she has to sleep at some point. Just… not here. Not at Ticon. “I can’t sleep here. Too many ghosts.”

He nods, and the trio leave Ticon behind.

 

The trail continues north, weaving between different points of interest. Deacon seemed to be avoiding any place he might be noticed. It’s frustrating, but not surprising. He knew she would come after him, just as she knows he wouldn’t make it easy.

“He seemed to be trying real hard to disappear,” Nick comments, glancing around. “There isn’t a damned thing out here.”

Julia nods, Reaper in her grip. Deathclaws like to frequent the area they’re in, and it’s putting her on edge. Why would Deacon come this way? Near as she can tell, there’s little in the way of anything out here. Is he trying to hide?

They pass by Listening Post Bravo, and she tries to ignore the bunker best she can. She almost lost Danse there. It isn’t a nice memory.

They continue on, until Dogmeat comes to a stop at an abandoned farmstead. Julia holds her gun at the ready, surveying the land. Bodies of Super Mutants litter the area, most with a bullet to the head. It reeks of Deacon’s handiwork.

Julia kicks the nearest green skin. “These don’t seem to have been dead that long.”

“Be careful, Julia,” Nick warns, his own gun drawn. “There might still be dangers around.”

Dogmeat also seems wary, slowing his pace. They split up and work their way around the small homestead, finding little in the way of anything. Julia does discover the name of the place, carved into a block of wood. Breakheart Banks. She huffs a small laugh at the appropriateness of the name. Seems like a lot of hearts were broken here.

Dogmeat woofs, suddenly alert, and darts up a hill past a small three walled shanty. Julia follows. Just down the opposite side of the hill, partially hidden by trees is a large standing rock that she recognizes as a grave stone. Deep down, she knows the name she’ll find written there. She knows exactly where she is. It's too much of a coincidence to be anything else. Part of her doesn’t want to go any further, doesn’t want to intrude into this intimate part of Deacon’s life.

Dogmeat, oblivious to her struggle, is standing just on the other side of the stone, wagging his tail. He glances back at her, tilting his head to the side as if to say, why aren’t you coming? Stealing herself, she walks down. A few feet away, she can finally see around the other side of the stone and gasps at what she finds. A man is collapsed in a heap there, and her pup is whining at his side, licking his hand.

Julia’s heart stops. She knows that shock of ginger hair. Reaper clatters to the ground, and she charges forward, skidding to a stop. Dogmeat steps aside as she rolls him over. “Deacon,” she breathes, shaking him, but he doesn’t move. His sunglasses are broken, still perched on his nose. She presses her fingers against his neck, frantic to find any sign of life. “Nick!” she calls over her shoulder. “Over here!”

The Synth appears a few moments later and scrambles down to her side. “You found him,” he says, kneeling opposite her. “Is he breathing?”

She nods, tears dripping down her nose. He has a nasty looking wound on his side, likely from a Super Mutant weapon. The edges are an angry red, and there’s an old pool of blood he was lying in she didn’t notice before.

“Shit,” she growls, yanking open her pack and wrenching out a stimpak. Stabbing him in the gut, he makes the first noise she’s heard so far, a small groan. The edges of the wound start to mend back together under the stimpak's aid, a good sign. Brushing his hair back, she murmurs softly, “Just hang on. I’ve got you.” Moisture slips down the bridge of her nose and plops against his cheek. "I'm here."

“We need to get out of the open,” Nick says at her side, drawing her back to the moment. “I’ll carry him up to the house for you.”

Nodding, she collects her gun and pack. Glancing at the grave, she follows behind the Synth. Dogmeat is at her side, and she thanks any and everything for his powerful nose. If they had been any later… she doesn’t think about it. She’s here now.

They set up camp at the homestead. Nick takes watch while Julia cares for Deacon, and Dogmeat wanders back and forth between the two. That first night she doesn’t get any sleep. Her mind keeps tormenting her with the scene she found. Deacon, covered in blood. Deacon, dying. God, how long had he been lying there? If he'd been dead when she found him? A part of her morbidly wonders if maybe he did this on purpose. There's always been an immense sadness to Deacon, and honestly Julia can understand the urge. It still burns, but she understands.

The next day, Nick demands she sleep. Julia protests, but the old Synth is having none of it. She finally gives in and curls up beside her partner. Sleep claims her almost instantly. She wakes in the middle of the night to Deacon moaning fitfully. She's alert in an instant, leaning over him to make sure everything’s alright.

He’s tossing about, sweat dotting his brow. Julia grabs his arms, fearful that he’ll rip out the stitches in his side. “Deacon, please, calm down. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

His eyes snap open, but he isn’t focusing. He’s clearly delirious. His gaze snaps to her, and she can barely stand the torment she finds. “I’m sorry,” he pleads, grabbing her arms in a death grip. “I’m sorry, Jules. I didn’t mean… I just… I _wanted –_ ” He makes a heart wrenching noise Julia realizes is a sob. “But Barbara… didn’t… I _can’t.”_

Trying her best not to cry, Julia manages to pry his hands from her and pushes him gently back down onto the mattress. She makes soft, shushing noises that come out slightly garbled from tears. “It’s okay, Deacon. I forgive you.” She brushes sweat soaked bangs back from his forehead. “I’ll _always_ forgive you.”

He settles down after that but clings to Julia’s hand. She doesn’t mind. Maneuvering their clasped hands, she manages to press play on her Pip-Boy and listens to Deacon’s tape again as tears slip down her cheeks. Staring at his face, finally lax in sleep, she’s glad she didn’t listen when he asked her not to find him.

Dogmeat pads in and sits beside her around sunrise. She wraps him into a tight one armed hug. “You’re such a good boy,” she manages between sobs. “Thank you so much for finding him. _Thank you._ ”

He whines in her embrace, licking away her tears when she pulls away. He glances over at Deacon, whining again. He walks over and lies down beside his head and nuzzles his hair.

She brushes hair back from his forehead as Nick sticks his head in the door. “How’s he doin’?”

“About the same. His fever’s gone down some, so I think he’s going to be okay.” She glances back at Nick to see him watching her with a peculiar look. “What?”

He walks over and brushes away errant tears Dogmeat missed. “Did something happen?”

“Oh, he was talking in his sleep last night,” Julia says, looking away and fidgeting with her hair. “I thought he was going to rip out his stitches.”

“Well, if he has that much fight in ‘em, I figure he’ll be alright. Did you get enough sleep, Julia? You’re looking a little peaked.”

“I’m okay, Nick.” She glances down at Deacon and smiles. “I promise I’ll get some rest if I need it. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Alright, I believe you. Just remember you got people who care about you, too. I’m gonna go back out, make sure everything’s all clear. Yell if you need me.” With that, Nick steps back out the door.

 

Things stay in a holding pattern of sorts for the next couple of days. Julia gets a bit of rest, Dogmeat drops in time to time, as does Nick. Deacon sleeps, if somewhat fitfully. Julia wakes one morning a little after dawn to find a pair of bleary blue eyes watching her.

She's suddenly wide awake, sitting up straight. “Deacon, you’re awake.”

He blinks several times before giving her a weak smile. “So, this isn’t a dream? Good to know.”

Julia reaches out to take his hand, but he pulls away. When she looks back at his face, she tries not to let the pain of rejection show on her own. “How are you feeling?”

He manages to sit up and rub his head. “Never better.”

Julia knows it for the lie it is, but she doesn’t feel like calling him on it. Swallowing down her emotions, she rakes her hair back from her face. “I’m glad you're okay.”

“As happy as I am to see you and all, do you think a man could get some grub?” Deacon asks, avoiding her gaze when she looks up. “I’m starving.”

“Oh, right. I guess you haven’t eaten in a while. Gimme a sec.” Standing up, she walks outside to the cook pot and dips up a bowl.

Nick looks up from his post. “Hey, Julia. Didn’t expect you to eat so early.”

“It isn’t for me,” she responds, giving him a teary smile. A part of her wonders if maybe she's just dreaming. “Deacon’s awake.”

The old Synth’s eyes widen, and he’s hot on her heels when she returns inside. “Well, look who’s finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Nick murmurs with a grin.

Deacon waves, averting his gaze. “Yeah, heya Nick. You been keepin’ Charmer company?”

“More or less,” he responds, and seeming to realize something, he steps back outside the door. “Glad to see you up and about.”

“Yeah,” Deacon responds rather lamely, taking the bowl of food offered to him. “Uh, thanks.”

“No problem,” Julia murmurs, resisting the urge to watch him. Instead, she turns to her pack, digging around until she finds what she’s looking for. Without warning, she hooks a new pair of sunglasses behind Deacon’s ears. “Here.”

He finally manages to meet her gaze and looks vaguely sheepish. “I appreciate it.”

“Sorry I didn’t think of it earlier. I was just… happy you were finally awake.” Julia tries not to fidget in her seat, staring down at her hands. She wants to ask him so many things. Why he left. Why he was here. About what happened the night they drank together. She just can’t seem to form the words, and everything just feels awkward.

Deacon slowly sips on his soup, wincing when it burns his lips. “How long was I out?”

“Around five days? Well, at least, that’s how long you were with us. We… found you unconscious, in front of a grave.” Julia glances at his face, barely noticing the flicker of fear there.

“Well, then. Thanks for patching me up. I’ll get outta your hair in no time.” He focuses on his food, refusing to look at her.

Julia’s heart sinks. He still wants to leave her, even after she went to the trouble of finding him. After he nearly died running away. It's more than she can stand. “How can you be so selfish?!” she snaps, balling her hands into fists. “Do you have _any_ idea what it was like for me, waiting and wondering if you’d come back? And then, when I do go looking, you leave me this stupid message saying to just _forget you?!_ What the hell? Don’t you know I can’t do that? You’re my friend. You’re my – ”

Deacon’s voice, soft but certain, cuts her off. “I can’t give you what you want.”

She looks up at him wide-eyed, tears slipping down her cheeks, and she just doesn’t care. “I’m not asking you for anything. I just want to stay with you. Is that really too much to ask?”

He sighs, setting his bowl aside and staring at his hands. “Is that something you would be satisfied with? Honestly? Could you live a life like that?”

 _If it was with you, yes._ She can’t bring herself to say that, anger still boiling beneath the surface. “Why are you so against it? You said it yourself, you enjoy spending time with me, so tell me why?”

“Because I’m not the man you seem to think I am. I’m not just some guy who can settle down or be a father to your kid. You should know better than to want that.” His hands are shaking, and Julia has to resist the urge to reach out to him.

“Why? Because of your past? Give me a little credit. Deacon, I accept that. I always have. That isn’t who you are now. You can try to tell me all you want that you’re bad news, but there’s nothing you’ve done that proves that. Since I met you, all you do is help people. You don’t go out of your way to hurt anyone. The things you do, those aren’t the actions of a monster, and I wish you’d stop seeing yourself as one.” She picks up his bowl and brings it to his lips. “Now, you need to eat.”

He seems to deflate and does what she says. The conversation isn’t over, not by a long shot, but they have plenty of time.

 

After that, they don’t really discuss the matter further. There's small talk and banter seems to come easier, but there’s a strange heaviness in the air between them. Deacon is still acting the way he did that morning before he left, and it’s driving her mad. She doesn’t know what’s wrong or how to fix it. She knows she can’t push right now, or Deacon will, injured or not, bolt. She doesn’t want that, but a larger part than she cares to admit really just wants him to touch her again. It's getting hard to breathe around him. 

Julia wakes one morning to find the mattress beside her empty. Panic sets in as she scurries out of the house. Deacon isn’t well yet. He couldn’t have left. What if he dies? Did she push him too far? Does he hate her?

Nick stops her before she gets too far gone. “He hasn’t run off, don’t worry. He’s just down at the grave where we found him. Go ahead. I think he might want some company.”

Steeling herself, she wanders that way. True to Nick’s word, Deacon is standing at the grave, staring at the marker. Julia wonders if she really should intrude. After all, this is the grave of his wife. It just feels… wrong. Especially after they... 

“C’mon over, Charmer,” Deacon calls, tone weary, “I won’t bite.”

Sheepishly, she makes her way down, stopping just beside him. “Sorry, I… didn’t want to intrude.”

He waves away her concern. “It’s fine.”

Silence falls between them, heavy in the early morning hours. It’s strange, she feels a sort of kinship with this woman she’s never met. This woman who managed to pull Deacon out of the darkness of his youth. Julia feels a pang of regret that she will never get to meet her. She must have been lovely.

“Y’know, I…” Deacon begins, rubbing the back of his neck, “I didn’t come here to die. It wasn’t what I wanted. I just… got in over my head.”

Julia nods, staring down at the grave with her hands clasping in front of her. “Why did you come, then?”

“I… wanted to talk to her again,” he says after a pregnant pause. “She was always able to help me work through things. I needed it again.”

“I see.” That’s definitely a feeling she can understand. Nate was her rock. She misses being able to just chat with him about everything. Hell, she even wishes she could talk to him about Deacon. She sighs. “Deacon, it’s… okay,” – _no it isn’t –_ “if you want to leave. I get it. But can we talk first? Get everything out in the open?”

He grimaces. “Charmer, I... You know how I am. I can’t just talk it out.” He doesn't say it, but she knows it's too much for him. Hell, it's too much for her, too. She thinks about his feverish rant, apologizing to her. She wonders why he feels the need to.

“I understand,” she murmurs, eyes tracing the lines painstakingly carved into the stone. “She was a lucky woman, your Barbara.” Julia doesn’t wait for an answer, just wanders back up the way she came. It hurts, being like this, but it’s a pain she’ll weather. Because, at least for now, Deacon is with her again. That's more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> And here we are again.
> 
> This was hard to write. Like, crazy hard. A part of me really wanted to write the last bit of this from Deacon's perspective, but it just didn't seem right. I didn't want to give away too much of his inner thoughts. 
> 
> Also, Breakheart Banks is a real area in the game. I may have spent a while wandering around to find the perfect spot. >.>
> 
> Please let me know if you spot any errors I may have missed, as I have no beta. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.


End file.
